


Intermittent Work Breaks

by frankiesin



Series: Brallencer Coffeeshop AU [5]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Starbucks, au divergence, my fiction writing teacher said Brendon's taste in music was boring so take that as you will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8015476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankiesin/pseuds/frankiesin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of small snippets from Brendon's job at Starbucks, based on prompts given to me in class.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At Work

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I did the thing where I submitted fanfiction in for a grade. I even changed the names so that my teacher wouldn't be concerned about me. 
> 
> Basically, these little drabbles were my homework at one point. They take place in a similar timeline to my Brallencer Coffeeshop AU (which isn't posted yet but it will be soon), but with some events changed so that I could fit the assignment prompts. 
> 
> There are three so far, but there might be more as the semester goes on. Enjoy!

Around nine in the evening, Starbucks is always either a mess or completely deserted of people. There’s no pattern, and part of Brendon--the ADHD part, most likely--loves it. It’s part of why he manages the evening shift. Tonight’s one of those nights where it’s deserted except for the regular customers, who are scattered across the cafe area, in their respective and chosen seats. The lights are turned down low now, a dull yellow hue casting parts of the counter into either pitch blackness or aesthetically pleasing gold. The coffeemakers are all running, making their final brews of the night, before the late night surge comes in around ten or ten thirty. Mikey, the freshman who never works weekends and rarely comes in on time, is working on a cappuccino. His face is scrunched up in concentration as he tries to keep the foam from spilling over.

 

Brendon has 8tracks streaming from his laptop, which is hidden away in the manager’s office. The morning manager, a senior and marketing major named Sarah, taught him how to hook his laptop up to the intercom so that he could choose the music and not have to listen to the boring shit they were told to put on. Unfortunately for Sarah, Mikey, and whoever else ends up working with Brendon, Brendon actually likes the jazzy stuff Starbucks workers are supposed to listen to. His tastes are a little different, with more of a retro swing theme going on. Right now, Dean Martin’s Heaven Can Wait is coming through the speakers, and Brendon’s dancing a little as he cleans up the counter. He doesn’t need to clean it, since the metallic surface is always spotless when he’s working and there’s no one in line, but it gives him a nice view of his favourite customer.

 

Triple Espresso, holed up in the corner table, face lit up by the screen of his laptop. He’s got his earbuds in, so Brendon figures he’s not a Dean Martin fan. Brendon still doesn’t know why Triple Espresso ever chooses that table. It’s too small for all the tech gear he has, and it’s the only one that wobbles. It’s in a corner that no one ever goes to, though, since the bathrooms are on the other wall and the entrance is behind Brendon. It’s right under an air vent, though, which means that it’s got to be cold as hell. Brendon’s seen the thermostat, he’s been told not to touch the thermostat, ever, unless he wants to lose his job. It’s chilly, even behind the counter where the warm coffee wafts heat waves against Brendon and Mikey’s backs as they work. Brendon’s even wearing jeans and the hairs on his arms are standing up.

 

Someone comes in, interrupting the beginning of Ella Fitzgerald, and Brendon puts on his customer service smile despite wanting to tell the newcomer to go back out and try again. She takes her time coming around the display stand, where Sarah and her morning crew toiled endlessly last week, putting out the back to school promotions. Brendon’s already ducked out from behind the counter to rearrange them twice this evening. He almost missed serving Triple Espresso, too, which would be unfortunate. But now, all the refillable cups, and overpriced merchandise with the Starbucks label on them, are lined up perfectly. There are gaps, of course, because college students are impulsive and rely too much on coffee, but everything is pushed to the front and it looks completely full.

 

The girl--Brendon recognises her as Venti Soy Latte, Hold The Whipped Cream--is stopped in front of the sweets counter. She’s not going to order anything, too concerned about making a good impression with the rest of her sorority, but she’s going to look anyway. Brendon looks over at Mikey, now finished with making his cappuccino, and the two agree that Brendon will take the order. Brendon drops the damp, worn out washcloth onto the counter with a plunk that gets drowned out by a loud trumpet solo, and heads to the counter. The light of the cash register screen is blindingly white-blue, especially after staring at Triple Espresso and his dim corner of the cafe for so long. Brendon blinks until he gets used to the brightness, and by then Venti Soy is in front of the register, lips pursed like she doesn’t know what she wants yet.

 

“Can I get a venti soy latte, but hold the whipped cream, please?” She asks. Brendon nods, takes her student card and gives her the dinner discount even though dinner ended an hour ago, and doesn’t tell her there’s no whipped cream on a latte, not unless you ask for it. She’s in Brendon’s psych class, and takes good notes. Brendon figures that playing nice will help him pass, and also get him a few tips.

 

She drops most of the coin content from her wallet into the tip bin, the coins clinking against the glass and drowning out the noise of Louis Prima. The two customers Brendon can see from here look up, squinting in the dim light, pulling out earbuds to see if anything interesting is happening. Brendon smiles at them, writes down Venti Soy’s order on a paper cup, and gets to work making it. He hears Mikey call out someone’s name--Brendon prefers learning people’s orders to learning their names--and the silence is further ruined as a chair scrapes away from a table and sneakers pound across the tile floor. Brendon’s going to make Mikey wipe the floors tonight, since Brendon has to do the cash count and Ashley called in sick.

 

Ashley’s not sick, she’s cramming for an exam. Brendon’s been seriously considering changing out his jazz tracks for the audio version of one of his textbooks. It would kill the vibe of the place, though, and Brendon can’t kill the vibe.

 

Triple Espresso moves in the corner of Brendon’s eye, and he glances over, almost spilling hot coffee on himself in the process. He needs to get over his crush on the guy, or at least work up the courage to really talk to him, before he gets himself seriously injured. Brendon shakes the few hot drops of coffee off his fingers, and grabs the yellow jug of soy cream, measuring it out before pouring it into Venti Soy’s cup. It smells like the dark roast, warm and inviting, a memory of too many all-nighters during freshman year, and Brendon knows that the dark roast is finished brewing. He’ll let Triple Espresso know once he’s done with Venti Soy’s drink, in case Triple Espresso wants a to-go cup.

 

Brendon grabs a lid, doesn’t knock Mikey’s hip, and calls out for Venti Soy to get her drink all within one movement. It’s cramped, on the work end of the counter, but it’s not a trip hazard any more, now that Brendon and Sarah bought a few slip-proof mats with their manager bonus.

 

Venti Soy takes her drink with a smile, and it’s too dark to tell if she meant to put on too much blush or not. Brendon keeps his mouth shut about it, though, and just thanks her before sliding out of the cramped end of the counter and going over to lean against the pastries. He’s got a man by the name of Triple Espresso to impress, and a dark roast refill on the house (paid for later by Brendon himself) will hopefully do the trick.

 

 


	2. Conflict

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this exercise was essentially "shit hits the fan" and so I made shit hit the fan. 
> 
> Also, since Brendon can't bother to remember people's names:  
> -Triple Espresso is Spencer Smith  
> -Alien Sunglasses is Tyler Joseph

Considering Brendon spent most of his spare time at the campus LGBT center, conveniently located by the Starbucks, it wasn't much of a surprise that people tried to out him at work. What was a surprise was when they came after Mikey, the bored yet efficient freshman who made fantastic coffees. Brendon was in the back office, rescheduling Sarah and himself so that Sarah could be free next Tuesday morning to tutor someone and Brendon could get Saturday off when he would inevitably be hungover or in someone else's apartment. 

 

The door burst open and Mikey stumbled through, an expression on his face for the first time since he'd been hired a few months ago. Brendon dropped the schedules onto the desk. “What happened?”

 

“I need to leave,” Mikey said. He was shaking, his long, musician fingers curling and uncurling like he couldn't decide if he wanted fists or not. His glasses were almost off his nose. Brendon leaned over and pushed them up. Mikey leaned away. “I, um, I may have gotten in a mild verbal argument with someone outside, and they may or may not have yelled back and demand to see, well, you.”

 

Brendon let out a sigh and got up from the desk, following Mikey back out to the front of the store. There was a guy with a buzzed head standing with his feet spread and his arms crossed, and he would have been intimidating if he hadn't been wearing a flower print jacket and alien-like sunglasses, and was maybe an inch taller than Brendon. Brendon pressed his palms to the counter and gave his best concerned manager smile to the alien sunglasses man. “Hi, I'm Brendon, the manager on duty, how can I be of assistance?”

 

“Your employee is a disgusting, rude individual and you should know what kind of things he's involved in when he's not at work.” The man said, loudly enough that he got the attention of a few other customers. Luckily, Triple Espresso wasn't there yet, so Brendon didn't have to risk embarrassing himself in front of a cute customer. 

 

Brendon nodded to Alien Sunglasses, and suggested they get a table somewhere not in the middle of the Starbucks to talk things over, and give Alien Sunglasses the opportunity to explain his problem with Mikey. Alien Sunglasses frowned, the corners of his mouth curled down in a thin line, but agreed and headed over to an empty table (not Triple Espresso’s, though, thankfully. Brendon wanted Triple Espresso’s table available for whenever he came in). Brendon turned around to Mikey. “Hey, keep working if you're up to it, and just have Lynn cover the register until I get back, alright?”

 

Mikey nodded, and Brendon ducked out from behind the counter to go deal with Alien Sunglasses at the table. 

 

As soon as Brendon's ass touched the chair, Alien Sunglasses started talking. “Your employee is engaging in and promoting gay activities, and he attacked me when I asked him why he was even involved in that kind of stuff.”

 

“I don’t see what the problem is.” Brendon said, thinking about all the things he did off the clock that weren’t work appropriate. “What Mikey does off the clock isn’t a problem unless it gives the company a bad name. Being involved in activist groups,” Brendon felt wrong calling gay shit just an activist group, considering he was part of it and knew what it entailed, “isn’t a problem. We’re actually very supportive of that kind of thing, it often makes someone into a better person and employee.”

 

“He’s promoting an immoral lifestyle,” Alien Sunglasses hissed. “He’s letting his brother run around in skirts and say that there’s nothing wrong with that.”

 

“There isn’t,” Brendon said. He wasn’t sure if, as the evening manager of Starbucks, he was allowed to share actual opinions, but at this point it was a little too late for that. Mikey being involved in the LGBT community on campus or elsewhere, didn’t matter. Mikey having a sibling who broke the gender binary or whatever (and Brendon could ask Mikey about the specifics of that later, when he wasn’t dealing with Alien Sunglasses) didn’t matter either. Brendon stood up, keeping his posture open because he didn’t want to make this more of a scene than it already was. “And if that’s your only complaint--Mikey being a part of our school’s LGBT movement and defending himself when you insulted him--I’d like for you to leave now.”

 

Alien Sunglasses stood up, the chair scratching against the floor and the person in the seat behind him glaring at him. He leaned in close to Brendon’s face, and Brendon was reminded of his time in a suburban Starbucks, the summer between junior and senior year, when he’d been working more to avoid his parents, and had had to deal with unimpressed soccer moms with blonde highlights and manicured nails. Alien Sunglasses was just an angry mom customer in the body of a college student. 

 

“Supporting a sin is just as bad as committing it, you heathen!” Alien Sunglasses was nearly yelling now, and Brendon could see Mikey flinch in the corner of his sight, and Lynn look over with confusion while she took someone’s order. “I work for the school’s paper, and I’m an FCA leader, and I’ll make sure both groups know the kind of… of deviance you allow at this place. You should be ashamed of yourselves, you disgusting, ignorant fa--”

 

Brendon’s palm was colliding with Alien Sunglasses face before he could stop himself, and it was as he felt the sting of his palm against stubble that the Starbucks paused. Lynn’s hand was halfway to her mouth to hide her surprised gasp, Mikey was half turned around from where he’d been handing a drink off, and there, with a freshly brewed cup of coffee in one hand and a three inch thick library book in the other, his hair still in need of a trim, was Triple Espresso, eyes on Brendon and Alien Sunglasses and nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed it!!


	3. What Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: have the character (Brendon) deal with the shit that went down in the last prompt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you want the original version of this universe (which is very NSFW and could not be turned in for a grade ever), go read part one of this series!

Brendon doesn’t know much about Mikey’s life outside of Starbucks. Brendon didn’t even pick up on Mikey’s name until he’d been working there for almost three months. He still sticks up for Mikey when their store manager suggests that they fire Mikey to get rid of all the complaints coming from Alien Sunglasses and his FCA friends.

 

Brendon leaves the managers’ meeting with an address and determination. He catches a ride with Sarah, the morning shift manager, and she drives him over to Mikey’s apartment complex. She can’t give Brendon a ride back to campus, because she has class until six, but Brendon doesn’t mind. He watches her drive away in her little blue car and then turns and begins the task of finding a specific apartment number.

 

Mikey’s apartment looks half buried, with the windows high on the wall and the curtains closed. Brendon knocks anyway, and waits for almost three minutes before the door opens and Brendon is met with a squinting, bed-headed Mikey. Mikey pushes his glasses up his nose and doesn’t invite Brendon in. “So, are you here to fire me in person?”

 

“You didn’t come in for your past two shifts, dude,” Brendon says. “I had to fight to keep you employed there.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Mikey says. It’s too dark inside his apartment for Brendon to see the expression on his face. Brendon shrugs and hopes it was the right response. “I’m the one who smacked the guy. I told our store manager that if he’s going to fire anyone, he should really be firing me.”

 

“I can’t go back there,” Mikey says. “That guy and his friends, they all know where me and Gee live now. Gee won’t even leave their room, because they’re paranoid we’ll get attacked again.”

 

“You can’t let them get to you,” Brendon says. “Look, I know a guy who knows a girl who works at the pride center. I can talk to them, see if they’ve got a position for you or your… Gee… and maybe you can work somewhere where homophobic dickbags won’t come in and bother you during your shift.”

 

“I think I should just not work on campus anymore,” Mikey says, and starts to close the door. Brendon’s the youngest of five, and the most annoying, so at this point it’s instinct to stick his leg in the door and stop Mikey. He puts his hand on the door frame as well, in case Mikey’s the kind of guy to not care about bruising a few legs to make a point. Mikey lets go of the door. “Brendon, I know you’re out, and proud and whatever, and I’m glad that that works for you, but me and Gee aren’t like that. We were the only queer kids in out high school, and I can’t put them in danger. Thanks for the offer, though.”

 

“If you change your mind, let me know,” Brendon says. He sees Mikey’s glasses reflect in the sunlight as Mikey nods his head, and then the door closes and Brendon’s left alone outside a basement level apartment. He still has an address and determination, so he turns around and heads back towards campus.

 

It takes him half an hour to get back there, and he’s sweaty when he does. He heads straight to the pride center, right next to the library, hoping that he still has some luck left and the guy he’s looking for will be in there still.

 

“Hey, Brendon,” Ashley says from where she’s got her feet up on the desk. “What’re you doing here?”

 

“Are Frank or Laura here?” Brendon asks.

 

“Nope, but Spencer is. He’s the other ambassador, does most of the planning shit. Do you want to talk to him?”

 

“Sure,” Brendon says, even though he doesn’t know any Spencers from the pride center. Whoever he is, he’ll have to know Laura and Frank, and those two are the ones Brendon goes to when he wants to talk gay issues. He’ll just ask Spencer to pass the information onto one of them.

 

Ashley calls back for Spencer, and Brendon settles himself on the edge of the welcome desk, his legs dangling an inch or so from the floor. He has a plan that involves a lot of rainbow flags, stickers, and making sure that the entire campus knows that the gay community is a part of them, and that they aren’t going away any time soon. Brendon’s been meaning to get more involved for a while; the whole mess with Alien Sunglasses and Mikey almost getting fired was just the motivation he needed to actually do it.

 

Triple Espresso steps out from the back room, hair soft and perfect, the ends starting to curl at his neck. He leans against the door and directs his gaze at Ashley. “Hey, you called me?”

 

“Yeah, this is Brendon, he’s my Starbucks manager and he wanted to talk to someone who works here,” Ashley said. She gestured at Brendon, and then back to Triple Espresso. “Brendon, this is Spencer. He’s in charge of all the not fun business and planning shit at the center.”

 

Brendon stares at the guy he’s had a crush on for a while, the guy he didn’t even know the name of until Ashley had introduced them. He remembers that Spencer saw Brendon hit Alien Sunglasses and then bolt, because Brendon didn’t know what else to do. Brendon lets out a sigh and resigns himself to having to face his infatuation. He sticks out his hand, and says, “hey, I’m Brendon. Can I talk to you about some of the homophobic shit that’s been going down recently? I have some ideas.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Spencer says, nodding, not acknowledging that he already knows Brendon from Starbucks. He just asks Brendon to follow him into the back room. Brendon gets up and follows him in, sending Ashley a look over his shoulder. She winks at him. She knows that Spencer is Triple Espresso. She knows what that means.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!


	4. The Follow Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was that the character goes through with whatever decision(s) they made in the previous assignment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final ficlet (so far as I can tell), and it's a bit shorter than the others were. I hope you like it!

Brendon sits in the swivel chair across from Spencer, who’s running his hand through his hair and scratching his pen across the top of a legal pad. Brendon kicked his heels against the floor and sat on his hands so he didn’t reach out and mess with any of the rainbow decorated items on the desk. “So, yeah, that’s basically everything.”

 

“You slapped a guy for being an ignorant prick and then didn’t confront Mikey about what happened?” Spencer asked. From the way he was addressing Brendon, it sounded like he was talking to a small child who had just done something they knew was wrong. Brendon slumped down in the chair and spun a little, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t argue. Spencer clicked his pen off. “Right, so. I still don’t get why you didn’t get in trouble for literally assaulting someone, but I saw it happened and I unfortunately know the guy who’s causing all your problems, so I understand why you did it.”

 

“Can you help Mikey?” Brendon asked. “Because he’s a work-study kid and he and his sibling live in this really trashy basement apartment and I feel bad for them.”

 

“Aren’t you worried about yourself?” 

 

“Nah,” Brendon said. He might be, later, but Alien Sunglasses’ complaints had only been about Mikey, and so Brendon was focused on fixing Mikey’s situation. Brendon didn’t have any problems with his own life, aside from how he was trying to not make himself look like an idiot in front of a cute guy. 

 

Spencer shook his head. “Look, we don’t have any open positions at the center right now, so I can’t offer your friend a job. All I’ve got are discussion groups and shit like that.”

 

“You can’t just make Alien Sunglasses and his religious posse disappear?” Brendon asked. He figured that surely the pride center had some kind of power over hate groups. This was Las Vegas. There were literally seven gay bars within two blocks of campus. Brendon reached out and grabbed a miniature bi pride flag, twirling it around. “Come on, you guys have to have something to make those dicks know that they’re being out of line.”

 

“I’m the event coordinator, not a superhero,” Spencer said. “But if you want to, we can meet after hours and see what we can work out. I’m not promising anything, though.”

 

“It’s cool,” Brendon said, putting the flag back. “If you want we can meet up outside the library around nine.”

 

Spencer agreed to the meeting time, and Brendon--who had been told to take a few days off while the other management people figured out what to do about the whole Alien Sunglasses and the anti-gay parade--made sure to be outside of the library way before he needed to. Spencer showed up a few minutes before nine, with his backpack over one shoulder and two venti coffees in his hand. He handed one over to Brendon. “It’s a mocha, I hope it’s okay.”

 

“Yeah, totally,” Brendon said, which was his code word for  _ I’m in love with you _ . At that moment, Alien Sunglasses and three of his church friends came out of the library, around the corner towards the pride center, which was closing down for the evening. As they passed Brendon and Spencer, Brendon saw one of Alien Sunglasses friends roll his eyes at the center and say, “honestly, the worst part about those gays is that they’re constantly shoving their disgusting, sinful ways in our face. I’d be willing to forget about them if they weren’t so obnoxious about everything.”

 

“They have nothing to be prideful about,” Alien Sunglasses said in agreement. He looked over towards the library, and noticed Brendon standing there. 

 

Brendon narrowed his eyes at Alien Sunglasses and turned to Spencer. “Hey, you wanna do something impulsive and kind of dumb?”

 

“What?” Spencer asked, but by that point, Brendon was already grabbing Spencer’s shirt collar and pulling him forward. Brendon told himself that he was kissing Spencer in public because there were four homophobic assholes standing there, and he wanted to make them uncomfortable. It had nothing to do with his crush on Spencer, or how Spencer had bought him a coffee and Brendon would give his heart to pretty much anyone who gave him food. 

 

When he pulled back from Spencer, Spencer was staring down at him with wide eyes and parted lips. Brendon grinned and shrugged his shoulders, because he didn’t have an answer. Spencer leaned in and kissed Brendon again, quickly, before turning to face Alien Sunglasses and his friends, all of whom were looking like they’d just seen a horrible scandal. Spencer winked at them all and said, “while you’re at it, leave Mikey and Gee alone, and re-read the whole ‘love your neighbour’ part of your Bible.”

 

“And then shove your Bible up your--” Brendon started, but Spencer slapped his hand over Brendon’s face and looked at him scornfully. Brendon nodded in understanding. Sometimes, it was best to not anger the straights more than necessary. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed it!


End file.
